


Smile My Dear

by Ethereal_Virgo



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brother-Sister Relationships, Hazbin Hotel - Freeform, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21893950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Virgo/pseuds/Ethereal_Virgo
Summary: Alice Morgan would do anything for her big brother Alastor, and vice versa. But life comes with a lot of obstacles, so what's left to do but smile? Hazbin Hotel AU.
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) & Original Character(s), Alastor/Mimzy (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	1. Prologue: Smile

Lightning split the sky like shards of glass. Or was it her vision, light spots appearing as her fatigue grew? Thunder caused the ground to shake so much it was difficult to keep one’s footing. Or was it the boots of the policemen, beating down behind her. Torrents of rain poured down from the dark clouds above. Or was it the tears in her eyes as she wished to be anywhere from here? It was probably both, Alice realized, as the sound of shouting snapped her back to reality.

“Stop! Stop right there!” The policemen chief yelled. Golly, they sounded so close now. Alice fought to contain her ragged breathing, pushing herself to run just a little more. She knew in the back of her mind that there was no way out of this. She had gone too far, dug herself too far down. And to top it all off, she was alone. The one person she thought she would always be by her side was dead and gone. Some sick side of her hated him for leaving her behind. Well, truth be told, all of her was sick. After all, there was an innocent, albeit greedy, man bleeding from the chest in a shiny office in New York City. And that shit doesn’t happen naturally.

The ground shuddered as a lightning bolt struck a tree directly next to the fleeing girl. Alice screamed, her feet faltering as she jumped to get away. Her face collided with the mud as the unfortunate, struck tree was engulfed by fire. Spluttering, the teenager picked herself up, desperately wiping the dirt from her eyes. The unexpected heat caught the girl’s attention. Her eyes darted around, taking the nightmare around her in. 

Fire was quickly spreading through the underbrush, stemming out from the struck tree like blazing roots. All Alice could hear was the crackle of the inferno and the shouts of the policemen. Her breathing became desperate as she drowned in the smoke. Any way out; any sign of escape was lost. She was dying. Alice Morgan was going to die tonight, and for some psychotic reason, she was perfectly fine with it. 

Without warning, a voice entered her head. It was soft and comforting among the chaos around her. If it weren’t for the fact she knew she was going to Hell, she would have thought it was an angel’s voice, wrapping her in contentment as she breathed her last breaths. It brought her back to happier times. A cheerful, familiar voice over a crackling radio. Fireside talks that lifted weights off her chest. Sweet laughter after a corny joke. She closed her eyes and curled up within herself, allowing the voice to envelop her. A grin spread across her fatigued face as flames licked at her clothing. The voice whispered in her ear, sounding so clear she imagined that if she opened her eyes her brother would be sitting right next to her: “Smile my dear, for you’re never fully dressed without one!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Welcome to my first ever fan-fic! Sorry this prologue was so short, but this is just a preview of what's to come. I'm so excited for this story to progress, and for you all to go on this adventure with me!


	2. A Million Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice is born. Alastor makes a promise.

March 15th, 1917

Ruth Morgan was a lot of things. People who knew her would describe her as one of the most head-strong women they had ever met. “She is stubborn as an ox,” men would say over cigars at a poker table. “She’s awfully scandalous,” women would gossip over tea on sunny afternoons. Her husband, William Morgan, would often get asked how he could deal with such an unshakeable female, but he would just chuckle and joke about that’s why he married her in the first place. The couple was quite the opposite of what people would describe as “products of the time.”

And then there was their son. Strangers would say he was handsome and polite. His voice just sounded like jazz, cheerful and smooth. But everyone who came into contact with this boy would agree, there was something off. In his sixteen years of living no one had ever placed their finger on what exactly was so odd about him, but it was present nonetheless. Perhaps it was his constant smile, always painted on his face like a mask. Or perhaps it was how fast his voice could change from buoyant and light to absolutely lethal if he was angered, that toothy smile withstanding. 

For sixteen years It had just been the three Morgans, not oblivious to the scrutinization of their New Orleans society but upbeat nonetheless. On a sunny March day though, everything changed. The neighborhood held their breath as they saw the midwives and doctor rush into the Morgan household. The regional women having their tea on the local gossip’s front lawn looked on, chiming in with their opinions like birds at the first sign of sunrise. “Beware the ides of March, I always say!” the leader cackled, eliciting a laugh from the ladies. 

Minutes drew into hours as the door of the master bedroom in the Morgan household remained firmly shut. Midwives rushed in and out of the room with dripping cold rags, adamantly avoiding the teenage boy who kept offering them tea as they went. The matriarch of the Morgan family lay inside, her yelps of discomfort not unheard. As the hours increased, the chances of Ruth Morgan’s survival decreased, no matter how determined the woman was. Childbirth in this time might as well be classified as a death sentence. 

In the early hours of the twilight, the franticity within the house had ceased. All was quiet as the stars began to climb into the sky. Not even the spring wind dared to blow. The midwives and the doctor began to pack up their things. Words of congratulations quietly slipped out of their mouths as they peered down at the sight in front of them. Ruth Morgan, the poor thing, was red as a rose. Her brunette hair stuck to her forehead and her breaths still came in pants. Beside her, her husband was no better. Sweat clotted over William Morgan’s brow as he clutched his wife’s hand. Despite this, their faces were positively glowing as they looked down at the little thing nestled in Ruth’s arms.

“Excuse me,” a midwife spoke up. Ruth reluctantly picked up her head from looking down at the innocent being swaddled in blankets. “May I bring him in?” the midwife asked.

“Please,” Ruth whispered, excitement rising in her chest as she watched her only son walk into the room. “Alastor,” she murmured. “Meet your baby sister, Alice.” She moved the blankets away from the baby, allowing the girl’s chubby face and pink cheeks to be shown in their full glory.

It wasn’t like Alastor had never seen a baby before. It’s just that he had never seen one so new. Her eyes hadn’t even opened yet, and she was so small. This world, he realized, could grab this baby right here and now and crush it. And it wouldn’t even realize it. Why was it so defenseless? How was it so innocent in a world that was anything but? He looked up at his mother. “May I hold it?” he asked as he sat down at a bedside chair.

His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded nonetheless. “Careful now,” she sighed as she transferred the delicate baby into her son’s arms. As he received it, he took caution to mimic how his mother had been holding it. When the shift was completed, Alastor’s heart suddenly jumped in his throat as he peered down at it. Wait, not it. Her.

She was lighter then he could have ever imagined. He could probably hold her in one hand over his head if it didn’t put the poor girl in danger. He could feel his hand rise to touch the baby’s face, almost instinctively. He didn’t know whether to be disgusted or enchanted as the girl cooed in response, her eyes remaining firmly shut. The baby then suddenly began to move, stretching out her fat little arms and altering her position so that her face was huddled into Alastor’s chest. 

A feeling completely foreign to Alastor shot through his body, sending his stomach into flips. Why did this baby trust him so much? He swore he read somewhere that babies could sense who a person truly was, similar to dogs. He was a monster. Yet, this baby didn’t care, or didn’t notice. She wasn’t just some random brat drooling in a decorated stroller. This baby was his blood. Their blood was one and the same. His breath caught at the thought of it, and he realized his sister’s blood was one he never wanted to see spilt. “You’re quite the charmer,” he whispered to her. “Though you sure gave mother a hard time.” He chuckled slightly along with his mother, though for a different reason. Memories of his mother joking about how difficult he was to give birth to resurfaced in his brain. It was like God didn’t want he and his sister to exist. Alastor shook the thought from his head.

“I promise,” he said, looking solely at the baby in his arms. “For as long as I live, you’ll always be protected. You and I against the world, Alice.” Alastor didn’t know where this promise came from exactly, but he did always keep his word. And at the moment, he would swear until his dying breath, Alice Morgan smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alastor is so bad at feelings. It's hilarious. Anyways I'm sorry if this seemed a little slow, but I promise it will get more dramatic soon! Thank you all so much for the kudos by the way!


	3. Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's more to Alice than meets the eye...

January 12th, 1923

“And that my friends was ‘Chicago’ by the talented Fred Fisher! Thank you for tuning in to tonight’s broadcast!” Alastor turned his microphone off and placed his script on the desk as he leaned back in his chair. Barely containing his amusement, he peered over to the window separating the recording room and the viewing area. There, with her forehead practically glued to the glass, was a young girl, her brunette hair tied up with a large bow. Alastor smiled and waved at the girl and the woman standing behind her to come in.

“Al! Al!” the girl all but shouted as she catapulted herself into the room. “Brother you were fantastic!” Alastor chuckled as he looked upon his little sister. The poor girl’s maroon coat was practically swallowing her whole.

“I’m sorry,” Alastor’s mother Ruth sighed. “I tried to keep her as quiet as possible.”

Alastor waved her off as he ruffled Alice’s hair. “It was no bother! Did you enjoy it?” he asked his little sibling.

“Oh yes! Yes!” she squealed. “Now I want to become a radio host just like you!” Without warning the girl ran to the microphone, standing on her toes in order to reach it. “Thank you for tuning in to tonight’s broadcast!” she boomed, emulating her brother’s voice. Both Alastor and Ruth laughed at the girl’s shenanigans, earning a proud beam from the five-year-old.

“When you’re older my dear,” Alastor reassured her. The girl pouted a little, but quickly found interest in the other objects lying about the studio. As she scurried off to play with something else, Alastor turned to his mother. “How cold is it out there?” he asked, walking over to retrieve his coat from the coat rack. 

“Pretty frosty,” his mother responded, wrapping her arms around herself for emphasis. “I’m pretty sure it had begun to snow when we arrived.”

“Well I suppose we should head out before it gets any worse,” Alastor responded as he fixed his coat. “Alice dear!” he called to his sister, who came bounding up to him with brewing questions.

“How does the microphone work? What happens if you mess up a line?” Alastor simply shook his head in amusement as he took his sister’s hand and headed towards the door. Alice remained unshaken. “Who takes over when you get sick? What happens if you lose your voice?”

As the family stepped out from the radio station building and into the frigid New Orleans air, any chatter amongst the Morgans ceased. The family had literally stepped into a winter wonderland. Newfallen snow covered roads and roofs. Candles gleamed in the windows like little drops of sun. The large star itself had begun to set over the horizon, casting an orange glow across the sky and onto the snow. Even Alastor himself was mesmerized by the scene, and it was only when he felt his little sister’s hand leave his that he snapped out of his stupor. 

Alice shrieked in delight as she bolted down the sidewalk, kicking up snow as she went. Her mother and brother followed quickly behind, their hearts filled with worry that the little girl would slip and fall. But Alice’s feet held steady as she continued to run, finally stopping when she arrived to one of the city’s most popular parks. The field was littered with dead trees, which would have made the normally luxuriant park appear empty if not for the many families scattered about.

The little girl gasped at the sight. “Come on!” she yelled, latching onto her brother’s arm and yanking him further into the park. Alastor cringed at the contact, but nevertheless let his sister do what she wanted until she let go and fell into the snow with outspread arms and legs. Alastor had no desire to engage in the activities, as he did not want to get his clothes soaked, but still smiled down at her. Well, at least, he wouldn’t have engaged in the fun if it weren’t for the freezing cold ball of snow that landed on his back.

Alastor whipped around, his eyes darting around as he looked for the perpetrator. All he saw was his mother in a fit of hysterical laughter. The fire in his eyes waned as he realized who had thrown the snowball. Behind him, his sister howled in laughter. “You want to laugh, huh?” his smile turning mischievous as he spoke. Subtly, he reached down into the snow, cupping it in his hands until a nice ball was formed. Before the little girl could even register what was about to occur, Alastor unloaded his snowball, hitting Alice straight in the face and sending her flat into the snow. 

The five-year-old’s shoulders suddenly began to shake, and Alastor wondered if he gone too far and caused the girl to cry. His assumption was quickly disproven as his little sister’s laugh rang in the air. She stood up, balls of snow flying from her hands towards her brother and mother. Both adults allowed the measly balls of snow to hit them, allowing the small child her victory. But they weren’t going to take it lying down either. Before she knew it, Alice Morgan had incited a full on snowball fight akin to World War I.

Passerbys watched as the Morgan family ran around like insane people. Some laughed at their antics. Others rolled their eyes at the notoriously strange family. But all the three Morgans saw were each other being pelted by snowballs. It was a fight for the ages, filled with team-ups and betrayals. Alastor was shocked to find his smile completely genuine, stretched so far that his face was becoming sore. Was this what normal people felt when they were having fun?

Just as the fight had reached its climax, Alastor noticed that Alice had stopped dead in her tracks. Her hand completely limp by her side, he watched as the snowball the child was clutching fell to the ground. Even more frightening, the girl was staring straight ahead with wide and unfocused eyes, seemingly at nothing. “Alice dear?” Alastor dropped his snowball and walked up to his sister, kneeling in front of her. “Is something wrong?” The girl didn’t answer nor flinch even as Alastor waved a hand in front of her face. “Alice?”

Finally, the girl’s bright blue eyes shifted towards Alastor, the rest of her body still deathly still. “Bad,” was all she choked out. “Bad.”

“What’s bad?” Alastor asked worriedly, his smile faltering. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong Alice?”

The girl shook her head. “Leave,” she whispered. When Alastor didn’t respond, she started crying even louder. “Leave!” Tears began to stream down her face. “Bad! Bad! Bad!” The girl was near hysterical now, suddenly leaping forward to clutch onto her brother’s shoulders.

“What happened?” Alastor heard his mother’s voice behind him. He stood up and turned to face her, holding his agitated sister and desperately trying to not think about the arms tightly wrapped around his throat. 

“She’s just…” he paused. “She’s ready to go home now.” He smiled at his mother in an assuring way. Ruth wondered why her children had paused the game so abruptly, but nevertheless walked with them out of the park. It was about halfway back to the Morgan home that she realized Alastor had not yet separated from them to return to his own house, but decided not to speak.

By the time they had reached the sizable Morgan household, the sun had set. Clouds covered the sky, blocking out the stars and barely allowing the moon’s light to shine. Alice’s cries had turned to sniffles, and eventually silence, herself calming down considerably as the trio put more distance between themselves and the park. As the trio stepped through the door, Alastor was immediately enveloped in warmth, causing shivers to race down his back. In the worry for his sister, he had forgotten how cold he truly was. 

Alastor felt Alice leave his hands as his mother took the now sleeping girl from him. He watched as they disappeared into the shadows of the deeper household, the only light in the vicinity being from the dying fire in the fireplace. Like a moth to a flame, Alastor was drawn closer to the fire, its dying embers providing the perfect thing to stare at as his mind reeled with thoughts. Alastor was not shaken easily. How could he be, when there was no real heart to shake? But when it came to his sister, one of the only people that made him feel like something other than the monster he was, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

“Stay,” his mother’s soft voice filled the dark room. Alastor turned his head to see his mother had returned after, what he assumed, putting Alice to bed. “Your father is asleep. You can leave before he wakes up in the morning.” she stepped closer to him, placing her hand on his arm. He twitched at the mention of his father, but hid his displeasure. “It’s freezing out there Al. Please, just stay.”

Even in the darkness he could see the pleading look in his mother’s eyes. She did this often now, whenever he came to visit his childhood home; finding excuses for him to stay the night. This excuse, however, he could somewhat understand. “Of course mother,” he smiled, as did she in relief and happiness. He stayed by the fireplace as his mother fixed up the sofa with a blanket and pillow. Even when she finished, she stayed until he was settled into the blankets. “Good night mother,” he whispered as she headed out of the room.

Ruth Morgan had waited years to hear him say those words again. Attempting to keep the tears at bay, she turned to the silhouette of her son on the sofa. “Good night dear.” And with those words, and to his own surprise, Alastor drifted off to sleep.

\-------------------

Alastor is what some would call “an early bird.” No matter how late sleep finally decided to wash over him, he was up before the crack of dawn. His mother had always joked that it was the perfect trait for a radio host, even if Alastor used this phenomenon to do… other things. But on a day like this, the only thing Alastor did in the early morning hours was fix breakfast for his sister. "The poor dear must have caught a cold" was the excuse he had told himself during the night to explain his sister’s strange behavior. After all, his sister was nothing like him! She was a completely normal, bubbly girl whose innocence never ceased to amaze him. 

More instinct than anything, Alastor turned on the kitchen radio, making sure the volume was quiet enough so that only he would be able to hear it. The only thing that was on the radio during this time of the morning was news, but it provided the perfect background noise to Alastor’s breakfast preparation. “And now, onto the New Orleans early morning news report,” Alastor barely listened as he reached into the pantry for an apple and some strawberries. “Last night, an accident occured at City Park.”

His knife barely hovering over the apple, Alastor stopped in surprise and interest. He reached over to the radio, turning its volume up just a smidge more. “An automobile spiraled out of control on the road due to the recent snowfall and ice, sending it directly into the east park limits at about eight-thirty PM. The car’s passengers were injured but are expected to recover. However, several pedestrians were struck and killed, ages ranging from-”

Alastor turned off the radio, his whole body numb with shock. The knife fell from his grip and clattered onto the counter. He tried to control his breathing, his heart beating a mile a minute. It wasn’t the fact that people had died. Oh no, that didn’t bother Alastor at all. It was the fact that the east side of City Park is where he and his sister and mother had been playing in the snow yesterday evening at about the same time of the crash. It was the fact that they would have been standing in the direct path of the automobile. It was the fact that he just knew, if it weren’t for his sister’s fit of hysteria, they would all be dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a happy holidays and an amazing New Years! Let's go Roaring 20's!!


	4. White Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Alastor and Alice change drastically.

December 6th, 1923

“Alice, dear, if you let go of hand my hand one more time…” Alastor growled through an extremely forced smile. The shopping square the pair of siblings were currently trying to navigate was so packed with bodies it took all of Alastor’s willpower to not snap, and the added threat of losing his sister in the crowd did nothing to quell his anxiety. 

Alice winced as her older brother’s grip on her hand tightened. She looked up at him sheepishly and pointed. “I just thought that store looked interesting.”

Alastor gazed up to the store she was pointing at. The sign, reading “Porter’s Antiques,” was decorated with festive garland, as many of the other stores in the square were at this time of the year. In the display windows sat a variety of objects, from coat racks to watches. Alice’s persistent tugging brought him closer to the shop, and thankfully, out of the mass of people milling about. 

Alice’s eyes glimmered as she looked into the windows. She turned excitedly to her brother, “We can get a Christmas gift for Mommy! Please Al!”

Alastor sighed, his strong desire to return home conflicting with his inability to say no to his darling sister. “I suppose, but what could you possibly get her in-” 

He was quickly interrupted as his sister finally pulled him into the store. Once inside, Alastor was completely overwhelmed by the scent of polished wood and old books. A tiny bell jingled as the siblings stepped in, alerting the elderly clerk behind the checkout desk. 

The old man nodded in greeting. “Welcome! Anything you two are specifically interested in?” 

Alastor tipped his hat. “Just browsing.”

Alice had already taken off behind one of the shelves. Alastor followed, finding it incredibly ridiculous that his six-year-old sister was absolutely captivated by the simple, everyday objects that inhabited the store. Yet, it also intrigued Alastor. He wondered if she would always stay this way, oblivious to the evils of the world and living in blissful ignorance. 

He supposed not. The girl already had experienced firsthand the darkness that resided in humanity. Alastor and his mother did their best to protect her from the wrath of the drunken Morgan patriarch, but Alastor knew she saw what he was capable of. He had seen the innocent, sad eyes peering out of the shadows of her bedroom as the sound of shattering glass echoed in the kitchen. He could only hope she never had to see such evil again. In his father, or in himself. 

“This one,” Alice’s quiet voice snapped Alastor out of his thoughts. He looked down to see the young girl cradling a snow globe in her hands.

It was quite beautiful, Alastor had to admit. The base of it was made up of smooth, dark wood with gold trim embroidering the ends of it. Inside the glass dome sat a simple pine tree, painted white on the edges to look like snow. Alice shook it, and the flakes of white swished in the liquid, creating a beautiful blizzard. 

“It’s lovely dear,” Alastor smiled. “I’m sure Mother will adore it.” 

Alice grinned proudly and dashed from the shelf to the front of the store. Alastor moved to follow her, until something gold shimmered in the corner of his eye. He turned to look at what caught his attention, and found a golden locket hanging from another display. 

Uncertain of why the piece of jewelry was drawing him in, he stepped forward and brushed his fingers against the locket’s surface. It was smooth, save for the divots carved into it that formed a unique floral pattern. Curiosity bested the radio host and he opened it up. Inside was just a clock, its thin, golden hands ticking as the seconds passed.

“Alastor! Are you coming?” his little sister’s voice rang through the store. On impulse, Alastor grabbed the locket and swiftly headed to the front desk, his sister practically jumping with joy when he came into view.

“Alice, dear, why don’t you head outside and enjoy the cold weather? I’ll finish up here,” he smiled reassuringly at her. Alice raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but didn’t argue as she handed the snowglobe to her older brother. “Just stay where I can see you!” he shouted after her as she exited the shop.

“Lovely girl,” the old cashier smiled. “‘Alastor’ she said? I knew I recognized your voice from somewhere. I love your radio show.”

“You flatter me good man!” Alastor chuckled, pushing the items towards him. “Glad to hear people still tune in.” The flattering radio host smiled at his jest. As if his radio show was not the most popular in New Orleans. 

“This for the girl?” the man asked, holding up the locket. Alastor nodded. “Take it then, no pay required. All I ask is for a little mention on the show sometime, eh?”

Alastor’s grin was near face splitting. “That can be arranged,” he said as he took the items from the man. He sent the clerk a final wave as he stepped outside to join his sister, feeling that perhaps his forced detour into the store was profitable after all.

\-------------------

“We will be home late now, so she will have to spend the night.” Ruth Morgan gestured to Alice, who was sitting by the radio in Alastor’s living room.

“Yes, Mother, I already have my guest room prepared for her,” Alastor assured the frantic woman.

“And do make sure she goes to bed on time. She will try to fight you on it I’m sure.”

“Mother, you wound me with your distrust,” Alastor pretended to be offended. 

Ruth chuckled softly and rolled her shoulders to release her tension. “Sorry dear. This is the first time she has spent the night away from us and I just-”

“And she’s with her brother, is she not? Worry about yourself Mother. The roads are icy and the sun has already set…” Alastor glanced out the window. The light from the automobile waiting outside illuminated the slight snow flurry and patches of ice on the road.

“The driver will be careful, I’m sure,” Ruth replied as she fixed her brunette locks of hair and fur coat in the foyer’s mirror. “Trust me, if I had my way I would be here in front of the fire with my two loves rather than at this party your father is dragging me to.” 

“You will have a good time,” Alastor said unconvincingly. He knew what his mother was truly implying: that any night away from the Morgan patriarch was a night well spent. “You look ravishing Mother,” he complimented as he desperately tried to steer her from the mirror. “You’ll be late if you dally any longer. The sooner you go the quicker you can come home.”

“That’s a lie if I have ever heard one,” his mother rolled her eyes, adjusting her coat once more. “Alice, I’m leaving dear!” she called into the living room.

Alice, already dressed in her nightgown, raced up to her mother. “I love you Mommy! Have fun!” she squealed as she gave Ruth a kiss on the cheek.

“For heaven’s sake be good for your brother,” she said with a sly smile. “I don’t think the poor boy knows what he has gotten himself into.”

“I will!” Alice exclaimed before racing into the kitchen for a late night snack. 

Ruth shook her head with a giggle before turning to her eldest, who was opening the front door for her. “Goodbye dear.”

Alastor kissed his mother as his sister did, and watched as she stepped into the frigid night. The cold wind whipped his face as he moved into the doorframe, observing his mother as she stepped into the automobile. The young man caught a glimpse of his father as the car door opened, and shivered as the light from his home glinted off his father’s spectacles.  
The radio host curled his fists, wishing more than anything that he could kill off the evil bastard once and for all. He made enough money to support his mother and sister. William Morgan was nothing more than a parasite; a soulless man who was the shell of his former self. 

A couple years after Alice had been born, the economy of the United States began to boom. Technology improved; the markets went up; everyone seemed to be better off. Alastor knew every other person in the country his age spent their nights partying in lavish clothes and dancing wildly to the newest songs. He himself never bothered with parties, except for when his job demanded it, but his father could not say the same. William Morgan was drawn to parties like a moth to a flame in an oil lamp.

Alastor would never forget the way his mother sat on his sofa, crying to him about how William had come home drunk the night before, angry at how much money he had gambled away. She couldn’t even form the words to explain her swollen eye, but Alastor could fill in the blanks. The only thing that stopped him from storming out his front door, his signature smile nearly splitting his face in half with its ferocity, was the look of fear in his mother’s eyes as she moved to stop him. She cupped his face with her hands and pleaded with him not to do it, saying that William could still change back to the man he was before. 

The radio host wondered if he would stop his… hobbies…if his mother ever found out and begged him to stop.

Perhaps, but he would be sure to personally speed up the demise of his father as his last farewell. Revel in the life draining from his yellowed eyes. He would have to make it look like an accident as well, of course.

“Alastor?” a tired voice asked. Alastor’s feet suddenly grounded in the present, and he turned to see Alice at the end of the foyer, snacking on some kind of fruit. “Why are you just standing there?”

Alastor shook his head and closed the door. “Just thinking my dear.”

“About what?”

He hummed for a second. “The future,” he answered fondly.

Alice opened her mouth to respond, but instead had to stifle a yawn. Alastor chuckled.

“I think someone is ready for bed,” he moved to pick her up.

The six-year-old stepped back. “I’m not tired,” she huffed. 

“So I suppose that yawn was just you showing me your surprised face?” he lunged suddenly towards the girl, swooping her into his arms as she laughed and squealed. “If you go to bed now, I will tell you a story. Do we have a deal?”

Alice pretended to think for a moment before grinning. “Deal.”

\-------------------

The fire in the fireplace had nearly died down, leaving only flickering embers and little warmth. Alastor yawned and closed the book he had been reading before glancing at the clock. It was way past midnight, creeping into the range of very early morning instead of late night. The radio host knew he should have gone to bed earlier, but either his insomnia or his paranoia kept him awake. No matter how hard he tried, he could not shake the feeling that something was desperately wrong.

He already checked in his sister’s room multiple times, and each time she had been sleeping safely and soundly. The snowglobe she had bought for Ruth sat on the bedside table, as Alice had wanted to see it one more time before she went to bed. Yet even after checking on his sister, the unsettling feeling in the pit of Alastor’s stomach never lessened. His only option was to wait until morning, where he could see his sister and mother safely off together.

A sudden movement in the corner of his vision startled the man, but not enough to make him flinch. His eyes flickered to the end of the hall that led to the bedrooms. There, fully awake, stood his sister, holding the snowglobe oddly in her hands.

Alastor stood up. “Alice, what’s wrong? You should be sleeping.” He moved closer to her, but stopped when he caught the look on her face.

Her eyes were completely glazed over and opened wide, as if she was looking at something surprising. She stared ahead mindlessly, not even sparing a glance to her brother when he walked towards her. The room had seemed to go deathly quiet, not even the sound of the crackling fire nor the ticking of the clock could be heard. Even the temperature had dropped, Alastor noticed as he shivered slightly. It was as if any sign of life had been swept from the room with his sister's presence. Alastor began walking to her again, thinking perhaps she was sleep walking…

Until she screamed.

It was shrill and ear-piercing, like the girl was being electrocuted. Never once did her eyes move; she kept her blank stare though the whole ordeal. Alastor was too stunned to move. There was nothing apparent harming her after all. All the radio host could do was look upon her in rare horror and shock.

When she was finally done, a beat of silence followed. “Dear?” Alastor asked quietly as he reached out towards her.

Then she dropped the snowglobe. 

It shattered onto the floor in a million pieces, the glass exploding in every direction. The liquid flowed out onto the floor as well, leaving only the tiny pine tree miraculously still attached to the base. Alastor could not help but flinch at the sound of the glass breaking, unpleasant memories floating to the surface of his mind.

Finally, Alice looked up to her brother. Tears flowed freely from her eyes, and the girl let out a tiny sob.

“Dead,” was all she said.

It took Alastor a moment to process what she had said. “Wh-what?” 

“Daddy. Mommy. They’re dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I lived bitch"  
> So yeah... I'm gonna just drop this here and pretend like it's not true that the last time I uploaded a chapter was before the pandemic. Whoops. This was going to be posted yesterday on Christmas, but the ending is a bit rough and I didn't want to ruin y'alls Christmas joy. Anyways, happy holidays to everyone!!


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